


champagne and gin

by cafedeluna



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Entertainment Industry, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28479318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafedeluna/pseuds/cafedeluna
Summary: Doyoung goes around collecting hearts while Taeyong collects him everytime he comes knocking.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong & Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to my first attempt on a chaptered fic. I will be writing this as I go, meaning there won't be a specific schedule on when I will be posting the next chapters. This fic wasn't even in my 2021 WIP list until recently :'D but somehow the prompt won me over and here we are. 
> 
> Big thanks to Raine and Sab for indulging me in all of prompt and idea vomit regarding this and some other ones ;) 
> 
> Hope all of you enjoy it! ♡

It hasn’t been an hour since Taeyong stumbled into the darkness of his apartment, the place echoing a kind of silence that wraps around him completely. A uncanny blanket that sends a shiver down his spine. He walks sluggishly towards the living room, mustering an incredible amount of strength just to turn on the lampshade. Warm glow of yellow light then fills the room, lights barely reaching each corner like weak fingers too weak to reach the nooks of the walls. 

_ Is this how unhatched duck eggs feel when they’re placed in an incubator?  _ Taeyong silently thinks.  _ Waiting for warmth to fully soak them to the core, waiting until reality presses on them enough to break them out of their shells.  _

Taeyong lets out a soft chuckle; even by doing so brings a heavy weight on his chest. 

He’s tired, so tired but the satisfaction lingers on the back of his mind that allows a smile to appear on his lips. It stays there for almost a minute, Taeyong feels like he wouldn't be able to erase it off from his face. Another chuckle reverberates in his chest. It’s the same feeling when he’s alone in the studio with nothing to accompany him but the music that echoes into his ears from the glowing speakers. Or when he’s on stage and the noise around him echoes until it settles on his skin, a pleasing thrum that seeps into his veins and brings the sense of triumph in his chest. 

The people around him call him workaholic, a perfectionist in every sense of the word. Maybe there is some truth to it, maybe it's just because he constantly needed a distraction until he fully adapted the character. 

One is bound to change after all. There's no other constant in the world other than change. 

Taeyong doesn't have any qualms to riding with the change of times. He believes that it's necessary. However there is always that one thing you hoped shouldn't have changed. You yearn for it, hoping that you can reach back into the corners of time just to have a hint of it on the pads and tips of your fingers. 

Silence engulfs him again. It seems like his brain has succumbed to the weight of tiredness that it is also on the brink of shutting down. Taeyong feels like he can pass out on the sofa but the sound coming from outside his door stirs him back into the surface of consciousness.

It's a faint shuffle that he brushes off until it persists with the way how the sound of his security pad echoes inside the apartment. Someone tries to enter the passcode but the security system rejects the digits. The person tries again, it fails again. 

For a quick alarming moment, Taeyong thinks that it could be an anti-fan or an obsessive one trying to break into his home. He wouldn't be surprised, it has happened before in his past residences. But after the third try, the locks finally clicked to give way for the trespasser and a voice flooded into the small hallway that cleared Taeyong's rising worry. 

_ "Dammit _ ," comes Doyoung's sluggish voice as he messily toes off his shoes while trying to hold on to the shoe rack for anchor. His head is buzzing with the amount of alcohol running throughout his system. The edges of his eyes blurring with each movement he makes. He feels his hold slipping, Doyoung awaits for his doom with a yelp but it doesn't come. 

"Taeyongie!" Doyoung squeaks, he squints up at Taeyong and then on the hold that the older man has around his arms to steady him on his feet. "I got in!" he grins, "I told you to change your passcode." 

Taeyong looks at Doyoung for a few seconds. He studies the lines on his face, shadows lurking around his eyes and cheeks, wearing him down and extinguishing the light from the smile that the younger tries to flash at him. "How else would you be able to get in if I do?" Taeyong says it with a sigh. 

He doesn't know where the strength in him is coming from, to be able to help Doyoung up from his drunken state despite almost fainting on the sofa just a minute ago. Yet he finds himself easily helping his best friend up, wrapping an arm around his waist and slinging the other around his shoulders. 

They walked sluggishly side by side. 

Perhaps Taeyong is indeed an unhatched duck egg. He waits for warmth and for reality to finally consume him, wanting and needing it from only one source. 

Doyoung being his warmth and yet it still doesn't reach his core. His reality to carry but he finds himself trapped in utopia of believing that he can still have his Doyoung back. Stumbling into his home with promises of warm food and a good quality time instead of piercing forced laughs and cold hands.


	2. holding back, holding on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Kim Doyoung? No name is linked to him for a long time, anyone barely lasts a month, 2 weeks at most. But he does have one person that sticks to him even after one scandal after another. Ironic, how he is best friends with Lee Taeyong."_

"What are you doing here?" Doyoung shouts over the loud music booming from the club's gigantic speakers. There's a tight grip on his arm but he doesn't mind it, doesn't mind being dragged away from the dance floor where he was just dancing with some model. In fact he smiled loop-sidedly at the person doing so when they came to a stop by the corner. He was turned around by the hold on both of his arms and was met with a pair of huge orbs, almost animatedly. 

"You called me here," Taeyong answered without having to shout, instead he leaned up slightly so he could speak near Doyoung's ears. His red hair softly tickling Doyoung's cheek. "Doyoung-ah, why are you here? You have a meeting tomorrow."

The words that comes out from Taeyong sounds incoherent to Doyoung; he furrows his eyebrows at it and Taeyong quickly repeats his words.

Doyoung nods, "Ah, right! I must have forgotten." He then hooks an arm around Taeyong's waist and leans down to whisper close to his ear. "So are you here to be my knight and shining armor?" There's a grin in Doyoung's voice, one that Taeyong is well accustomed to and has learned long ago on how to brush it off to make the younger come to his senses. 

Taeyong was supposed to be holed up in his studio working on a new song he’s been manically working on. He’s got Chinese takeouts and energy drinks ready at his disposal. He was halfway through everything, both his snacks and drinks as well as on the finishing touches of a song when his phone illuminated on his working desk. The studio is drowned under purple neons as the only light source of the room other than the soft glow of the monitor screen, making it easy for his peripheral to catch sight of his phone alerting him of a call. 

He had put it on silent the moment he locked himself in the studio. If it was any other caller, Taeyong would have disregarded it and carried on with cleaning the arrangement of the beats but the caller is somehow an exception to everything. Not a minute later he found himself slinging his bomber jacket, heading to his new destination for the night.

Finding Doyoung when he got to the club was not difficult. Partly because people immediately made way for him but mostly because of how it was easy to spot Doyoung with the way he made himself the center of attention, or rather how people gave him all of their attention. 

“Let’s justー” Taeyong looks at Doyoung and takes in a huge breath, “ーgo.” 

As they make their way out, Taeyong feels like there are thousands of eyes watching them. Despite being a solo artist who has faced huge crowds many times, it might be an ironic predicament but then it’s always a different matter when it includes Doyoung. Taeyong feels like a naked man walking out of the place and somewhere ahead of them waits a dread that would be a headache to fathom. 

“Oh, I think I saw a camera flash earlier.” Doyoung giggles when they are both inside his car that Taeyong will be driving after  _ thankfully  _ finding the keys in Doyoung’s pocket and not in some corner of the club bathroom where Taeyong has to crouch just to get it. “I also think I accidentally made out with someone.” 

Taeyong grips the steering wheel, knuckles forming into defined shapes. It’s not like he hasn't heard of such things happening and coming from his best friend before with utmost nonchalance lacing his voice. But every time he hears them, an anchor settles in his chest that wears him down slowly. 

Yet no matter how many times Taeyong goes through such situations, he still finds himself being subjected to them; coming back despite knowing what waits for him. And there’s only two things in it for him; it’s either being the talk of the internet the next morning and then there's Doyoung. 

_ "Kim Doyoung? No name is linked to him for a long time, anyone barely lasts a month, 2 weeks at most. But he does have one person that sticks to him even after one scandal after another. Ironic, how he is best friends with Lee Taeyong." _

Taeyong stirs from his sleep, he’s naturally not an early riser. His manager can vouch for that but it seems like his body changes its wiring circuits when Doyoung is involved. His eyes adjust to the dimness of his room, the only light coming from the small spaces under the window curtains. It’s only 9 am, if he considers the time, he can go back to sleep for an hour or two. He'd still have ample time by then to prepare food for Doyoung and himself but contrary to it, Taeyong swings his legs down from the bed and rubs sleep from his eyes. 

On the other side, Doyoung is lying on his stomach, hair in a mess from the excessive use of hairspray. Taeyong scrunches his nose at the pungent smell that would surely linger on the pillows. In his unmoving state and his face free of a smile that looks too forced just for the sake of socializing and an image to uphold, Doyoung looks the person that Taeyong grew up with before reality crashed on both of them. Both of them changed drastically but even so, they have each other that knows what truly lies behind their kohl smudged eyes. 

Reaching out for his phone inside the bedside drawer, Taeyong quickly navigates to the tabloid page and immediately finds it. A headline with Doyoung’s name on it. His eyes try to avoid the dark photo attached under the bold words but just like every single time he attempts to do so, he fails and feels his whole heart constrict inside his chest.

It's a photo of Doyoung, chest to chest with a man slightly taller than him. A pair of hands planted itself on Doyoung's waist while the younger man winded his arms around the other man's shoulders. 

Taeyong allows himself to wince.

**[CAPTURED] G &M Corporation heir Kim Doyoung and CNBLUE's bass Lee Jungshin spotted kissing**

_ "......Although he was seen to be kissing the band member, Kim Doyoung (25) was also captured leaving the club with Lee Taeyong (26). As always." _

[+159, -2] the "as always" sends akskdkd even the news editors are tired of kim doyoung's shenanigans and dragging taeyong every time. poor man. __

[+127, -21] poor taeyong when will doyoung stop being an inconvenient bitch

[+101, -32] entitled rich kids i hate them but i hate kim doyoung the most

  
  


“Fuck,” Doyoung curses, his throat sore and itchy but one look to his side and he inwardly sighs at the tall glass of water and the bottle of aspirin waiting for him. Just by that he knows that he isn’t in his own house. Doyoung squeezes his eyes shut and reaches out for the water and medicine as he slowly sits up. He finds no one curled on the other side of the bed but he does hear the faint sound of music coming from the living room. Doyoung sits there, he thinks back on what happened the night before, he remembers it all as he always does each time he gets wasted. It’s both a blessing and a curse. For some reason, no matter how hammered he is, once he wakes from an alcohol fueled slumber, everything comes back rushing to him. He seems to have a tight grip on his subconscious and yet he slips everytime it involves Taeyong. 

Doyoung knows that no one could care less about his nightlife and on whoever he spends it with, on who he kisses that day and on who he leaves the club with. But then there’s Taeyong, the nation’s favorite boy that most people are drawn to protect from his chaotic best friend who attracts the most wildest controversies and scandals. He hates it too, he hates dragging Taeyong along with his recklessness. Doyoung can bear the people’s distaste towards his personality and character but not on how they feel pity towards Taeyong just because Doyoung is selfish. So selfish no on not having the dauntlessness to let go.

He tries, he really does, to not pick up his phone and press button 3 to speed dial Taeyong’s number. He would repeat it to himself during the days when he’s sober and on nights when he is not...yet. But over the grand scheme of things, his hand seems to be wired to fumble with his phone without his brain processing as to what he is doing until the next thing he comes in an unstoppable speed. Taeyong is already talking close to his ear about going home. Wherein, in most cases means Taeyong’s apartment

_ Ah, yes, home. _

Perhaps it’s why he keeps on finding his way back because it’s been his home for the most part of his life. A home more than the grand and expensive penthouse under his name. 

_ ‘Then why do you keep on running away?’  _ The voice in his subconscious bleeds through him. Doyoung completely ignores it like always. He reaches out for the water and aspirin, gulping 2 pills down and hoping that it would immediately take effect, drowning out both his headache and the voice that keeps on prodding.

Doyoung rises on his feet, swaying a little and his vision getting blurry by the edges. The door opens and reveals Taeyong’s head popping up from behind it. 

"Good morning,” Taeyong offers a small smile. “In case you forgot you have a meeting by 1, your secretary called and said your car will be here 30 minutes early."  _ Oh god, I don’t deserve you,  _ Doyoung muses in his mind. Taeyong is caring and kind, patient and accepting; everything that Doyoung is not. He won’t even say shit like  _ ‘that’s why they work so well’  _ because he knows it’s not that— it’s because Taeyong is Taeyong, he is everything that Doyoung is not capable of holding onto his self-destructive hands. "Take a shower and come out for food."

Doyoung nods and musters a smile. That's all he could do before Taeyong disappears back into the living room and Doyoung navigates himself around Taeyong's bedroom. 

It's odd and scary how he can clearly see himself in every corner and surface of the room that isn't his. He's got his suits along with Taeyong's fancy red carpet attires and his neckties that Taeyong bought himself. He has his own spaces scattered around the apartment, a reminder that  _ Doyoung is here.  _

That he's still is despite being a storm to be with. Taeyong still lets him in. 

He jokes to Taeyong about it and the latter would sport a faint blush on his face when talking about their domestic tendencies. On most of them, Doyoung feels a prick in his chest either because of guilt or helplessness. 

Still nursing a throbbing head, Doyoung makes his way to the living room, fully dressed in his suit and hair combed back into style with the help of Taeyong’s reliable hairspray. 

“Where’d you get this?” Doyoung asks while fixing his cufflinks. “My hair feels like it went through a Ken doll factory.” He settles on one of the kitchen stools, facing Taeyong’s back. The other man is busy serving their warm breakfast on plates. 

Taeyong nudges the food to Doyoung, “I don’t know. It was probably a gift or something,” Taeyong answers and casts him a glance. The dark circles under the young entrepreneur's eyes look visible to Taeyong under the fluorescent light. Taeyong must have been frowning at it when Doyoung stills his eyes on him with a deprecating stare. 

“Are you gonna nag me?”

“Are you gonna start listening?” Silence.

Taeyong suppresses a huff. Instead of dwelling into matters that he can’t force himself in, Taeyong carried on with what he was doing when Doyoung was still nowhere in sight. 

“Why are you moving around so fast? You’re making me dizzy.” Doyoung lowers his utensils, eyes following Taeyong who have rushed back inside his bedroom and coming right back with Febreeze. 

“No, you’re hungover and that’s why you’re dizzy.” Taeyong sprays once, twice, thinks about it and sprays one more. 

Doyoung shakes his head in retaliation. “Whatever. You’re also dressed more than you should when you’re at home.” That one is true and there’s no other way around it. Taeyong might be the King of Concepts in front of the world but he sheds off the image once he’s in the comfort of his home, dressed in nothing but his shorts that disappears under his oversized shirt. “Do you have somewhere to be?” 

Taeyong sweeps his eyes around his place once more. He turns to Doyoung, “No. But I might have forgotten that someone’s coming over in a while.” 

The spoon was already half-way into Doyoung’s mouth then it stopped in the air. He fights with himself on whether to be amused by Taeyong's situation or pity the loss of his appetite. He lowers the spoon back on the plate. 

“Like, now?” Doyoung straightens up on his seat. “While I’m here?”

Taeyong waves off a hand, “It’s fine. It’s not like you frequenting my crib is a secret.” 

_ Right.  _

“Besides, you know him,” Taeyong adds. 

The entrepreneur didn’t even have time to question himself about the identity of Taeyong’s guest when the doorbell rang. 

The older man is known for keeping his circle small; Taeyong knows a lot of people, especially in the industry that he is in. But truthfully, he keeps mostly to himself and with a few close friends, and not even all of them can just be invited into his home unlike Doyoung. 

Doyoung has an inkling on who it could be. He prays he’s wrong. Just by the thought of it burns the tip of his tongue, leaving a hint of bitter taste in his mouth. 

_ But boy was he right.  _

It felt like those dramatic scenes in the family drama that Doyoung watches when he’s sober enough to understand plots and dialogues between characters. His sight has gone in slow motion as Taeyong unlocks the door and opens it to the presence of whom he harbors a dislike for.

“Ten!” Taeyong beams at the person on the other side of the door. Now if there’s a person that people associated with Taeyong other than Doyoung, it would be the magnanimous Ten Lee who commands every atmosphere he steps into. He’s a presence that craves to be known without making an effort for it. 

He is an entity that Doyoung is wary of. 

Ten is kind, daring and a whole kind of talented. It’s one of the reasons why him and Taeyong clicked so well in terms of personalities and their work in the industry. They’ve collaborated multiple times, on music and even on designing a clothing line. They’re artistry when put together is a force to be reckoned with. And Doyoung is okay with that, he respects their partnership for that. However, what doesn’t go by him is the look in Ten’s eyes whenever Taeyong begins to talk animatedly or whenever Taeyong is in his element, both on and off the stage. 

Doyoung knows it all too well. He might not admit it outright but somewhere in his chained heart, he is afraid of what it further entails. 

“Hey, you.” Ten steps through the threshold before giving Taeyong a one-armed hug. As Ten goes forward, his eyes catch sight of Doyoung who’s already up on his feet but he forgoes that in favor of smiling at the other man. “I’m so sorry for being early than intended, turns out I overlooked an important schedule.” 

Taeyong shakes his head and ushers Ten inside. “Please, it’s not like I’m not used to you being a busy bee.” For a short moment while Taeyong leads Ten to the living room, he almost forgot about Doyoung being in his kitchen until he sees him from his peripheral. He was about to bring attention to it but Ten beat him. 

“Hi, Doyoung. Long night?” Ten regards Doyoung. The thing about Ten is that he seems to know so much about Doyoung, or so he thinks whenever he talks to him, as if he knows Doyoung so well. But then it’s not like his lifestyle isn’t being broadcasted to thousands of people. Still, it doesn't erase the goading lilt in Ten's tone. 

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. 

"I mean, I saw a paparazzi—" a short pause "— or two camping outside." He shrugs and casts a glance at Taeyong. "And then there's the article. Not easy to miss me, really. Especially since it's with Jungshin-sunbaenim." Ten looks back at Doyoung with a faint grin playing on his lips. "Nice catch by the way, well, at least for that night." The last phrase was totally a bone Ten tosses in the air to stir an atmosphere. 

What they have against each other is something that wasn't explicitly discussed. But it doesn't come as a mystery to Taeyong whenever the two start brawling in the form of passive-aggressive exchanges.

"So, guys—" Taeyong begins in hopes to shift the discussion. 

"Really? I'm sure you loved the extra attention coming in," Doyoung counterattacks. "I mean, you do love to set things up around you before making your entrance." Doyoung says this with a smile, fake and exaggerated. 

They stare at each other for 5 second or more, maybe even a minute. Doyoung’s jaw begins to tick. So before he could extend the situation into something unruly, for Taeyong’s sake, he straightens his shoulders and announces his early exit. 

“Your car isn’t even here yet,” Taeyong says and follows Doyoung back into the kitchen to retrieve his phone on the kitchen counter. ‘And you barely ate.” 

“Then what’s the purpose of my car that’s in your parking lot’s care?” Doyoung good-naturedly tells him. Realization dawns on the rapper, his eyes fleeting to the direction of his bedroom where the keys are. 

“I’ll get them.” Taeyong moves. “At least finish the orange juice. It’s natural!” He adds the latter sentence like an afterthought. 

Doyoung huffs. “Of course it is,” he mutters to himself. 

The tall man busies himself with gulping down the half-filled glass that he almost forgets about Ten’s presence in the living room. The artist freely lounges by himself on Taeyong’s sofa, flipping through pages of a portfolio that has the contents of what he and Taeyong has been working on for a new project. 

“I can hear you thinking of ways on how to murder me,” Doyoung says, placing the empty glass on the sink and making sure to cover his untouched food with the mesh food cover. 

“Can’t blame me for trying.” 

“I think you need to stop, it’s not going anywhere.” 

“Yeah? But I don’t think it’s your call, Doyoung.” 

Whether or not they’re still talking about Ten committing murder against Doyoung is not impossible to comprehend. The real subject lingers in the air around them like a bird waiting to be acknowledged but it drops to the ground in a matter of a millisecond when Taeyong emerges from the room, Doyoung’s car keys dangling in his hand. 

“Are you sure you have to go?” Taeyong furrows his eyebrows at the other man. 

Doyoung nods. “I better get some head start on reading some numbers.” He bids Taeyong farewell, walking out of the apartment with only his keys, phone and wallet, dressed in chivalry. As if there’s no pixelated photos of him circling the internet from the night before. As if his life isn’t tangled like a bunch of colored yarns dumped in some corner. 

  
  


"Have you told him?" Ten speaks once Taeyong has made his way back into the living room after sending Doyoung off to the elevator. 

The scarlet haired man flops down next to Ten, his head hitting the back of the sofa with an audible sigh. "Told him about what?" he tries to feign ignorance, Ten indulges him.

"Baekhyun-hyung.” 

A surge of thoughts and emotions fills Taeyong up until it brings him to close his eyes. Hoping to silence his own dilemma from taking over him but it doesn’t work, just like how it is everytime Doyoung is involved.

"Yeah, sure." 

Ten twists his body so he’s facing Taeyong properly, one leg already under his body as he tries to sit more comfortably. "You have to do better than _'yeah sure’,”_ he carefully argued, threading into the start of a conversation that they must have for Taeyong’s sake. He’s tired of seeing the look on Taeyong’s face; him holding back and holding on to a set of uncertainties that was born because of Kim Doyoung. "Are you scared?" he adds. 

Taeyong shakes his head, turning his head to Ten. "No, I'll tell him—" he forces a smile, a failed attempt at taming his nervousness towards putting an end to his crisis "—I have to. I'm sure he'll understand."

Ten doesn’t spur further but he could merely hide the hurt that begins to pool in his eyes when Taeyong retreats back into his head. 

_ Doyoung will understand— that he's leaving, he will.  _

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me ;; [twt](https://twitter.com/dotaeholic) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/dotaebfs)
> 
> xx, _lia_


End file.
